


Time For Dessert

by CelesteFitzgerald



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Foreplay, M/M, Whipped Cream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 02:21:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21236549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteFitzgerald/pseuds/CelesteFitzgerald
Summary: Ringo and George buy some whipped cream, and George ishungry.





	Time For Dessert

“Are you sure you want to do this?” George asked breathlessly.

As Ringo lay in bed looking up at George, he knew there was _no way_ he would be saying no. The way George was looking at him now was so different from how he had looked at him a few hours ago. George had looked so nervous earlier when he had asked Ringo if he wanted to try something new, but now, as George straddled him, he looked strong and confident and _hungry_.

“God, _yes_,” Ringo gasped, pulling George down for one last kiss before releasing his grip so they could try out George’s plan.

George leaned over to the bedside table and grabbed the container of whipped cream. Then, after meeting Ringo’s eyes and smirking one more time, he turned the container over and began spraying it across Ringo’s chest.

Ringo gasped as the cool cream made contact with his body. Starting from the top, George made his way lower, stopping the spray just above Ringo’s briefs—and Ringo couldn’t help but feel disappointed that George hadn’t gone any lower.

But as George set down the bottle and started spreading the cream with his fingers, Ringo’s disappointment turned to pleasure. Ringo let an “oh, fuck” slip out as the heat from George’s hands combined with the cold of the whipped cream. The sensations were overwhelming.

When George was satisfied with his work, he held his white-coated fingers to Ringo’s lips. Ringo took each finger into his mouth one by one, sucking the cream off. Every so often, he swirled his tongue around the finger, reveling in the subtle changes in George’s facial expression each time he did so.

After another minute, the last finger slid out of Ringo’s mouth. Now that Ringo’s tongue was done with its job, it was George’s turn. He began by kissing Ringo’s lips, then he trailed kisses down Ringo’s neck until he arrived at the main course. Pausing briefly to meet Ringo’s gaze, he extended his tongue and swiped it across a patch of whipped cream near the top of Ringo’s chest.

Ringo didn’t bother trying to hold back his moan. But before the noise had finished leaving his throat, George’s tongue was back on him. Ringo grabbed at George’s hair, silently urging him to keep going as a stream of gasps kept flying from Ringo’s mouth. It felt so good—Ringo didn’t think it could get better than this.

Until George started sucking the cream off one of his nipples, proving him very, very wrong.

“George—oh, god—George!”

Ringo’s cry only spurred George on more, and George bit down lightly on the tissue before switching back to his tongue. He switched to the other nipple when the first was clean, and Ringo was completely out of breath by the time he had finished the second—and they hadn’t even started on the bottom half of Ringo’s torso.

George, always the perfectionist, kept working without a pause, and before long he had reached the bottom. He ran his fingers across Ringo’s hip while he licked off the last of the whipped cream, teasingly dipping his tongue under the edge of Ringo’s briefs—but he pulled back without going any further.

George sat up and ran his hands across Ringo’s clean—albeit sticky—chest. “Ah, Ritchie…that was…incredible.”

“That’s an understatement,” Ringo said as he took in the sight of his boyfriend’s flushed face. “But I think you missed a spot.”

Frowning, George glanced down at Ringo’s chest. “Where?”

Ringo grabbed George’s shoulders, pulling him down so that his face was within reach. He slid his thumb across George’s cheek, stopping just before the dab of cream at the corner of his mouth. “Right here,” Ringo said as he kissed the spot, flicking his tongue out to grab the last bit.

With his eyes shining, George smiled at him, and their lips met in a real kiss. Ringo’s tongue immediately found its way into George’s mouth, savoring the sweet taste left over from the cream.

“Any chance you’re up for a round two?” Ringo asked between kisses. He took the way George grinded his hips against him as a ‘yes.’

This time, they decided to work a bit further south. Ringo’s briefs were quickly removed, and George started spraying the whipped cream on Ringo’s left thigh. It was at this point that Ringo started to worry that for the rest of his life, the sound of whipped cream being sprayed from the nozzle would turn him on.

Speaking of which, Ringo could still hear the cream leaving the container, but he didn’t feel anything on his legs. That was strange. He lifted his head to see what was going on, and he found George sitting between his legs…spraying whipped cream directly into his mouth.

Ringo lay there and watched for a few seconds, shaking his head in amusement. “So, is my role in this optional or what?”

George sputtered, dropping the bottle and raising a hand to his mouth. He tried to mumble something in response.

“Can’t hear you, love,” Ringo said as he sat up.

After George swallowed, the nervous rambling began. “I’m so, so sorry Ringo, I just—I’m sorry—I got distracted.”

Ringo burst into laughter. “Right, because when your very horny boyfriend is lying naked in front of you, why wouldn’t you get distracted?”

George winced. “I’m really, really sorry. Please don’t be mad—”

“I’m not mad.”

“…You’re not?”

“No! That was the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen—how could I be mad?” Ringo said, running his fingers through George’s hair.

Sighing, George placed his hand over Ringo’s. “You have way too much patience with me.”

“Well, I better, because clearly you have _no_ patience.”

George looked down at the whipped cream container by his side and nodded in agreement. “You’re really not mad?”

“I’m really not. Now why don’t you finish what you started, hm?” Ringo said, handing George the bottle.

“Alright,” George said as he took the bottle—and raised it back up to his mouth—

“_George._”

He froze. “Oh, god, you meant on _you_.”

Ringo couldn’t stop laughing.


End file.
